Introduction: I had another Military Funeral Honors today. Nothing new about that. That is one of my duties I most enjoy. It is not that I am morbid or appreciate death. It is, rather, that I understand that death is a tragedy. It is a result of sin. It is a result of the Fall (Genesis 3).

But through the gospel–and through the gospel only–death is defeated for all those who are in Christ. That is a crucial prepositional phrase.

Story: I checked out the GSA vehicle from the motorpool. Our staff does a phenomenal job, and they are invariably helpful each week as I go to sign out a truck to take to the national cemetery.

I signed for my vehicle, drove to the national cemetery, got in my dress uniform, and went to put on my tie after I had put on my slacks, shoes, etc. Then . . . drama. My military clip-on tie broke. Suddenly, there I was. I had a Military Funeral Honors in less than an hour, and my little brown tie’s clasp had broken off in my fingers.

I called my wife. And I called a buddy, but got his voicemail. The message to both was identical: “Real-world issue. Need tie for funeral. Quick, fast, and in a hurry.”

My wife scoured my closet and found an old one. I threw the truck in gear and drove (perhaps over the speed limit) home. She met me on the drive in front of the house, passed the tie through my down-rolled driver’s-side window, and I pressed the accelerator again, and drove back to the national cemetery.

I made the funeral. The tie worked. I met with the family. I served as their chaplain. I honored the fallen.

But it had not happened without some, “Uh-oh! What now?” moments.

Encouragement: This is all kind of silly to some, perhaps, but not to me, and certainly it would have not been silly to my fellow Service Members or to the body of which I am a part, had I been out of uniform (even through no fault of my own). But it all worked out. I had an extra tie in my closet at home. My wife happened to be home. She happened to pick up the phone when I called. She happened to be able to meet me on the drive in front of our home. And the veteran Marine was honored before his family. It is these moments of grace, of comfort, of, how shall I say it, of trying and blessing, that remind me that it takes a team.